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Spencer.
He dialed Spencer’s number. It kept on ringing until it went to his voicemail. He tried a few more times, but Spencer wasn’t picking up his phone.
“Ugh, fucking bastard!” Matt shouted into the phone. He was going to have to force Spencer to answer him. Matt was not going to go easy on him. He was the one who probably had some clue as to how to find Jessica. Matt grabbed his wallet and phone and ran for the door. Nash was right outside the door where he had instructed him to be. On his way, he called George to ready the chopper on the terrace. Matt got there as fast as he could and found that George had prepared the private helicopter with the flyer already seated in the front. Matt nodded to George and climbed up, followed by Nash and then George.
He gave them Spencer’s address, and the chopper took off efficiently, wasting no time. Matt felt like he couldn’t even wait for the few minutes it took them to get from the hotel to Spencer’s apartment in Vegas. By car, it would have taken much longer. They landed in the helipad closest to Spencer’s place and rushed into the car waiting there. George didn’t protest when Matt signaled for him to hand over the car keys. He took the driver’s seat, with George on the passenger’s side and Nash, sliding into the back seat. He pulled out of the helipad and sped onto the main road, heading for Spencer’s apartment. When they reached it, he didn’t even bother to knock or ring the bell. He had his bodyguards knock the door down. Nash remained to guard the door while Matt and George barged in.
The apartment was dark and stank of stale food and alcohol. There was a messy clutter of unwashed dishes over the basin. Things were strewn all over the dusty counter. What a pathetic loser, Matt thought. There was light coming from the bedroom, and Matt headed straight for that door. The room turned out to be even messier than the rest of the apartment. The blinds were drawn, and the only light illuminating the room was a yellow bulb at the center of the ceiling. The bed was unmade, with clothes and other objects taking up every inch of space. There was the stagnant stench of sweat and alcohol in the room. Upon a quick inspection, he found Spencer lying on his side at the foot of the bed. Matt’s temper flared again upon seeing the complete disaster of the man. He hauled him up by the collar of his t-shirt and shook him violently.
“You miserable piece of shit!” Matt bellowed. Spencer only held his head low, not responding to Matt’s shouts. This enraged him even further, and he punched him hard. Spencer made no move to stop the blows that came next. Matt was so angry he lost count of how many punches he landed on Spencer’s face and stomach, but all Spencer did was cry. He was so weak that he couldn’t even hold his body up straight. His legs gave away, and he fell to the ground. Matt guessed that the bastard had probably drunk himself to the point of collapsing.
“Where is she?” Matt asked him. Spencer cried some more.
“Where the fuck is my wife?” Matt yelled louder, getting closer to Spencer, who reeked of alcohol.
“What do you mean?” Spencer managed to say weakly.
“They took her!” Matt was getting impatient with him.
“I don’t know what happened to Jessica!” Spencer cried.
“Tell me where to find the Coretti brothers, or I swear to God, I will end your pathetic excuse of an existence!” Matt yelled back.
Spencer kept on sobbing. Matt was disgusted with him and slammed him back into the bed. Suddenly, Spencer weakly spoke up, “I think I know where they might have taken her.”
“Where?”
“They have a place here in Vegas—a mansion. That’s the only address I know of,” Spencer said. His face was bruised and bloodied from all the punches Matt had thrown at it. His lips were cracked, and blood dripped down his chin, but he didn’t seem to notice. He really did look far gone.
“Write down the fucking address, and don’t pass out before I get all the information I need out from you,” Matt spat at him.
Spencer managed to find some paper and was looking for a pen when George handed him one from his pocket. He jotted down an address into the paper and handed it over to George.
“I know where this is,” George said, reading the note.
“Let’s go,” said Matt. After turning toward Spencer, he hissed, “I’m not done with you. You are coming with me.” Spencer started to protest but was hauled up by George, who was a whole head taller than him and possessed a bulging body. With one last disgusted look at Spencer, Matt stormed out of the room. Nash and George helped bring Spencer along with them to the car.
This time, he let George drive him because he had to make some urgent calls before reaching the Coretti brothers’ mansion. Spencer was locked into the back seat with Nash.
There was no way I’m going to let this bastard out of my sight until I find Jessica.
45
It took them an excruciating ten minutes of trudging through Vegas traffic and finally reaching the mansion. It was a huge, well-lit place that looked to be a sunny spot for the usual Vegas partying crowd that turned toward a home party rather than gambling at the casino. Judging from the sound coming from it, there indeed seemed to be a party going on. Matt instructed Nash to bring Spencer with him.
“Stop right there,” came a deep voice. A security officer with a serious-looking face and a walkie-talkie stopped them at the main gate. Matt signaled for Nash to let Spencer go ahead.
“We’re here to meet, Lucio. We have business,” Spencer said. Matt noticed that sometime during the car ride, he had wiped the blood from his face and was now looking somewhat decent and not like someone who had just taken a dozen punches from Matt.
The security member looked him up and down for a few seconds and let them through. He must have recognized Spencer.
There was a pool at the side of the mansion where a bunch of people was smoking, drinking, and splashing around in the water. Matt didn’t like the look of the crowd and wished that Jessica was safe wherever she was. Music blared from the massive speakers placed all around the pool. It looked like a college party, except the people here were much older and were probably doing worse things than what was usual for college-going kids. Matt scanned the poolside for any sign of Jessica. Before he had looked around himself, a voice cut through the music.
“Matt!”
The sudden rush of relief he felt right at that moment was almost bordering painful. It was Jessica’s. His head jerked toward the direction her voice came from, and he spotted her running towards him by the poolside. Matt ran toward her, and she crashed into his arms as he enveloped her in a tight hug, breathing her in.
“Oh, thank God you are safe,” he said into her hair, holding her tight.
